Find Happiness Ian
by Pikatree
Summary: Ian is in bed memorizing all events that just happened earlier. He remembers that his mother died, and Anthony comforting him. He has his guilt and regrets how does Ian react to Anthony?


**NOTE: **If you don't want to see two guys kiss (well a guy kiss a guy 'accidentally'), don't read this. If you don't like er, slight violence, don't read this.

The chapter also ended up longer than intended so if you read the whole thing, congrats. :P

This was my first attempt at making a sad fiction, so hopefully you'll like it, and please review/comment me on your thoughts. Thanks. :D

* * *

An Ian Hecox POV;

I see it, a plain white wall above me. Under me lays a thick mattress illuminating light colors of gray, blue, and black; I feel it. To the right, another wall, and the other side, a wall further from me. Up I look again, a ceiling.

Cotton cushion is hiding under my head. I appreciate the comfort it's trying to give me, even though my soft, dark brown hair deceives it. My emotions are swelling up, I don't understand what's going on; I just need comfort from someone rather than something.

I currently have no sharp objects around me, not even my nails. All I really have are soft objects, which help prevent me from rotting my skin. Thank the heavens though that I do have God, too. I wouldn't even be here without Him, or that especial one woman…

That woman, who just had to go.

I told people through the phone a little while ago to not talk to me much just so I could think of her. Her, defining an acceptably hilarious personality. All cheers and laughs, though weak in her posture and health. She had medium-length short hair, slightly pale with her Persian green eyes. I would say she was just 4 inches shorter than me, but I give all credit to dad for my height.

Mentioning my dad, he was the one who sent me the news. He was the one who witnessed it too. It started this afternoon, just after lunchtime with Smosh had been recorded. Just before I headed out the door with Anthony, my phone rang. I picked it up just as Anthony left to the garage to prepare his car to take myself and him home.

"Is this Ian?" I hear, once I pressed the green phone sign on my touch screen. "Yes this is Ian. Who's this?" I say, bluntly. I wasn't in the mood to talk, I was tired and full from the large burger I ate. "This is your dad. Ian, I have something important to tell you." I then suddenly become distressed. "Oh! Dad. What do you need to tell me?" "Er, well Ian. Before I say this, this…," I feel uneasy sniffling coming from the phone, "It happens. Okay? Everyone eventually has to go. I-I'm not sure how to say this. It was all natural! Unexpected, but you know, she was weak... You loved her, I understand, but Ian…" Suddenly I hear bawling, "Um, dad? Daad? Respond to me." "Ian. She's gone now. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about. I can't bare mention her at a time like this." I hear a slight pause. My legs and arms are completely stiff. My hand I'm holding my phone with shivering though. "I'm so, terribly sorry Ian. I have to go now."

My legs and arms are shivering just remembering what happened earlier. Remembering everything that happened today, my face had blushed and my breath picked up pace; not too quickly however. The same actions happened earlier today, too. My phone fell once he hung up; my hand was the one who released it. Then I collapsed onto the chair from lunchtime. I smack my head on my hand which were lying on my knees, and other arm surrounded the back of my head. I knew exactly who my dad was talking about; the only woman who'd accept me.

I grab the sheets of my blanket, forcing myself not to cry; I wanted to only weep lightly since I've cried enough today. But I basically almost couldn't, not when I memorized that moment. That moment Anthony walked in after waiting patiently in the garage for me. "Ian, are you coming or what?" he said, while he opened the door to the living room. He trotted to me though once he said, "Umm Ian?" Afterwards, he sat on the chair besides me. He placed his hand on my head, and mumbled, "Ian, what's wrong?" to my ear. Unconsciously, I pounded his wrist off my hand. Hard. "Oww! Dude, what's your problem?" And he slightly pushes my head. It triggers some sort of murderous feel inside of me, making me lift my head high enough to see Anthony's upper sleeves and push his shoulders. I immediately stood up and grabbed his hair, facing his face towards me. I felt the need to punch him, although… he looked mortified. Then suddenly… sympathetic.

I look at the hands I just released from my blanket. I can't believe I almost punched my best friend. He didn't know why I over reacted, and now I just feel guilty. Mostly because I remember that slight yell he said saying, "Ian!" which triggered me to release his well-groomed hair. Slowly, Anthony stood up too. Still looking at me, cautiously and compassionately. He focused on my blushed nose and the blood filled fragile eyes of mine. The staring though, it made me very uncomfortable. Suddenly I cried again, harder with my emotions blended of tragedy and embarrassment. I didn't know how to react at the moment, because I felt ashamed of almost hurting my friend, as well as knowing I don't have another woman to lean on in at a moment like this. I lay my head on Anthony's chest while doing so, and groaned the name, "Anthony" as I kept crying. He hugs me unusually, although I could feel he doesn't know what

I'm hugging the pillow next to me. It's Pikachu. It's the plush I take with me almost everywhere, and when I'm not, it's on my bed lonesome. I'm just cuddling it though, as it absorbs the slight tears and mucus overtopping it. For some reason, it reminds was going on; it made sense of what Anthony did that day, too. He placed his head over the hair bangs on mine. As one hand is embracing my back, the other is scrubbing my hair. "Don't worry, everyone goes through PMS." He says, and I chuckle a bit, then I became serious. "No, it's not that." I respond, still crying sorrowfully. "I know, haha. What's wrong Ian?" Anthony whispered. The way he messes my hair ever so softly makes me slightly better, it just does, and it feels so good. "I don't want to talk about it…" "Just tell me Ian." "Nono…" "Yes yes. Did someone die or something?" he said some-what jokingly. "Well… yeah." "Oh."

I'm still holding the Pikachu. I'm just caressing it now. I stopped crying but my eyes are still tearing. My nose is also stuffy. I'm actually quite upset now; by the way I treated Anthony and then on how he treated me. "Oh, so who died?" "Does it really matter?" "Yes, it does." Now remember, he's still holding me while my face is lying on my hands on his chest. "W-well… my dad informed me that on his trip to Indonesia, she died…" "Umm, who died?" "She." "Um, who's she?" "Are you too stupid to realize?" That was totally uncalled for. I didn't mean to call him stupid; I was just too emotional to mention the word 'mom'. "Hm, well I'm sorry that you know a lot of females Ian, how was I supposed to know?" He stopped holding my head and lays that arm on my back as well with his other. I lift my head a bit from his chest, exposing my blushed, slightly green face. "Shouldn't it be obvious? I told you my parents were on a trip so obviously the other one that was not my dad died." "Oh… right…"

I don't even feel that this plush wants me right now; I release Pikachu from my grip. Now, I'm just holding my blanket, covered with rainbow dot patterns overlaying each other over the surface of black. I know Anthony didn't mean harm, and I took everything he did harmful; just as he took me to the couch. He took the seat first, and then I took a seat right next to him. He wraps his arm around my neck, placing his forearm under my arm. My head is placed on his shoulder, and he decides to start a conversation. "So… she's gone, right?" "I obviously just said that, Anthony." "I know." And once again, he placed his lips on my head; just not on my bangs, on my ear. I feel relieved, and suddenly a bit astonished. I feel a bit of nibbling, but it wasn't really like a kiss. "What are you doing, Anthony?" "My mom did this when my grandmother died. It comforted me, so I'm hoping it would comfort you…" He was right. It did.

It was just too much of a romantic moment to withstand. I didn't avoid it though, I just blushed heavily. Then I remember I started faintly crying once again, and let so many emotions out. "But you're not my…" and I sigh. I just remembered that I don't have a mom. "Shh Ian. It's okay if you cry, talk to me." And I did. "Well…" "Come on, it's a perfect opportunity, you know." "Ehr.. well okay. Well I do feel she was the only one there for me." "Mhm…" "Like, not even Melanie satisfies me as much as her. Mom was such an enthusiastic woman. She could be mean, but I never experienced a nightmare with her, and she spoke to me about everything." Anthony started soothing me with gentle rubs on my torso with the arm he wrapped arm. The taller man also takes a tissue from him pocket and even wipes a bit of my tears and massages my upper arm and neck. "A-and sometimes I feel that she was only there for me, you know? There aren't enough people like her. I mean, like I hardly have any friends you know? And if you consider who I talk to as friends, you're wrong. Like, none of them even treat me good enough or should be with me. I mean, not even you're good enough."

Now I am holding my Pikachu plush again. I. Did. Not. Intend to say that. I feel like a killed my best friend's feelings. I mean, maybe I didn't mean it that way, but I got too carried away. _Ugh _my inner thoughts speak. "Wait, I'm not a good friend?" Anthony spoke, quite confusingly. "Hm?" I mumbled to him. I didn't remember what I was saying, which is why I questioned Anthony. "You just told me I wasn't good enough for you." "Oh, forget I said that. Please. I think I just got carried away."

Utter silence filled the room in the past scenario, except for the haunting moans in my mind. I think even Anthony lost the feeling to comfort me, by the way he slightly let me go but still in the same position. "Anthony, what do I do? I don't want to lose more people; I don't know how to deal with this." and Anthony looks down to his lap. "Ian I honestly don't know how to help." "Oh, well er…" I sniffed in nothing but a block preventing me from breathing, "c-can you give me some advice at least?" Anthony proceeded to think, and then it hit him. "Well maybe you should take advantage of the people around you. No, I don't mean peer pressure or anything like that, but love them you know? Just before they go away…" Anthony slightly choked. It seems like he wanted to cry at the moment, but he declined to.

"From everyone I know who died; they have told me at least once how people eventually have to leave you or will leave you. They won't tell you, but slowly just separate. And then suddenly, bam, anything can happen to drive them away." "Anthony…," I looked up to his head. He didn't look at me, but Anthony's face was redder than usual, "does that mean you or I will separate from each other, too?" I ask him. Anthony slightly pouts his face, and finally lays his head on my head. "It seems like it. Honestly, I don't want to, and I hope we don't in a long time too." "Heh, right."

Then Anthony had me thinking… "They also told me you should never be too overly attached to something. You'll only end up disappointed at the end." He said disappointedly himself. "Haha, like Smosh." "Hah, exactly." We both grinned a bit, but then I ruined it. "Well, aren't we kind of attached to each other?" I respond. "Yeah, but I wouldn't say we are thaaat much. I think." "But what if we are? And I mean what if you do have to go? What would I do?" "Well I don't know if that will happen in a lot time, Ian… haha... ha." And more awkward silence filled the room. I take the tissue that was on Anthony's lap, and wipe the left over tears on my face."

"Anthony, have you ever thought of leaving me like everyone else most likely has?" Once I said that, I shook my head twice Anthony's head was placed on. He lifted his head, and stared at me. You could see one eye becoming red, and the other just a bit teary. "Well err… maybe." And I sigh. Is it bad that I'm not surprised? The only thing I'm surprised about is how this changed from a discussion about my mother to us. "Oh." "It gets tiring being around the same people at times though, so you've got to understand." "Don't worry, I understand. I mean, it makes sense to say you treated me right anyway. Since you don't like being with me at times."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. That's what I am thinking right now. On bed, I'm just kicking the mattress, knowing what I said was plain stupid. Then, I turn my body around. I'm lying on my stomach, and head over pillow. I'm gripping my pillow tightly, with harsh regret. I wish, oh how I wish the discussion didn't turn into an argument, and it eventually did. I love Anthony too much to think that he didn't like being with me. I'm sure even Anthony didn't even want to start this.

"Ian, I do care for you. Or, at least do enough to let you feel accepted. It's hard to constantly talk to you, you know?" he tells me. His head was probably half a foot away from me, with an expression of anxiety yet positivism. "But I hope you realize that you only talk to me when you /have/ to now right?" "And I hope _you_ realize I have other friends to talk to, too." "Yeah, especially since the majority use you for our fame and fortune. TRUST ME, I'm glad I don't have most of your friends." And I still am. Especially with his girlfriend, Kalel. "Well at least I have friends unlike you Ian." "I KNOW that Anthony. The only friends I have are the ones who do care for me." "Ian, you basically just said I didn't care for you, but since I'm your friend, you just said I am." "Well, maybe I don't want to be your friend, which is why I doubt you care".

My heart is now constantly beating. The bed is echoing the bumps back to my heart, and I feel like I am going to have a heart attack. I am gripping to my regular white pillow just tight enough to be able to pull out the cover from the cotton. Stupid Anthony. Stupid. Even though he was right in some way… "Ian, if you felt I wouldn't have cared, you probably wouldn't have even told me told me about your mom dying. You were too attached to her anyway, which is why you cried so much." "I'm positive I'm supposed to cry if any of my parents die though." "But like I said, you cried too much. You obviously relied on her too much, and now it seems like you only want my service to help you. Ian, you're going to have to find some other people to help you, even though you have no one at all."

I didn't understand. And I still don't as I smack my palm to my head. Why is Anthony all of a sudden telling me to go to other people for support? He came to me first; I had no choice to tell him. "Hrm…" I murmured. I was too lazy to give an explanation. Once I say this though, he released my neck, and stood up. "I'm sorry Ian; we have to go home now. You still have to edit the lunchtime video." And I was still sitting on the couch while he checked for his keys in his pockets. I'm furious; I just wanted to kill Anthony for just leaving me while I dealt with the death of my other, especially with how I am violent when I'm in a sensitive mood… or miserable. My head is now obtaining its murderous feels, I randomly became haunted.

I am crying hard now, again. I feel like I'm touching a river just by feeling the pillow just because of how moist it feels. I feel so guilty, too. It's not like Anthony even expected me to do this anyway: Anthony was staring at me stare at him back. Anthony was about 2 feet away from me, but he was still in front of me. Anthony asked me to stand up, and I told him a straight "No". Anthony didn't want to accept my answer it seemed. "Dude, we have to go." "No Anthony." I kept declining; I was just upset he didn't want to help me out after what occurred just an hour and a half ago. "Um, then are you going to stay?" "Maybe" "I'm not going to stand here all day." And the idea of him standing here gave me an idea. "Actually, can you stay standing there for a moment?" "Why?"

I remember violence. It hit my imagination like a bullet, like I did to practically his whole arm and back, and penis… "Well because." I slid off the coach right in front of Anthony. I was kneeling in front of him with my back straight and firm. And quickly moved my arm back like a car, and zoomed upon his penis like a train. Anthony emoted from modest to painfully overwhelmed. He quickly grabbed himself, and fell back to the floor, almost hitting the table we eat lunch from. "Dude," He yelled to me, "Why the hell?!" and I punch the arm he was using to hold his rectum. "Ow!" he screeched. When I was about to punch him back, he kicked my stomach away, and I became more furious and pounded his arm repeatedly.

Anthony was still trying to kick me back with the foot not comforting his body. Once he managed to boot my arm, I grabbed his leg, and twisted it down to the floor. The front of Anthony's body was faced towards the floor. My punching became worse when I started punching both his arms, despite his constant ows and groans. I struck his arse, and then his arms again, avoiding his legs. _Goodness, what is wrong with me?_ I began to think. I feel a demon possessed me when it got the chance, tempting me to have Anthony fight back. His body was in too much pain to though, except the fact in which he could kick me; piercing his legs was harmless.

I'm sweating in bed now, sweating out my innocence and regrets until I thought nothing. Sadly, that didn't happen, I'm just sweating out anything but my memories. Maybe I'm sweating out that demon that took over for a minute? Actually, not even a minute, what I did lasted for about 5 to 10 minutes. 10 minutes of revenge for nothing, nothing serious. As well to that last minute, in which I rested just over Anthony. As I cooperated, Anthony gained capability to move his body away from me, just almost. I punched just a bit under his neck. Then, a shriek came from the older man, "Oww! Ian, what the frick are you doing, you asshole?!" I've never been so pissed. I knocked his lifted head to the ground, and held his neck, sliding my finger to his throat. I heard some choking, and he tried to move his hands but he couldn't since of his fragile arms. A few moments of holding, Anthony fainted.

Now, I'm just lying on bed. Shivering. Hallucinating. I don't know whether I should cry, or choke my own self. I do neither, but stay flat on bed. I turn myself to see the ceiling again, in which wasn't much of a ceiling anymore, but blurriness from the layer of tears shielding my eyes.

Anthony is in the next room, his room. I lifted him there once I settled myself and realized he wasn't awake anymore, luckily breathing. Honestly, I'm not sure if I should go inside to check on him, or what.

I thought and though, and decided I'll stay. "You know what, my mom didn't like him much anyway, I'll take her example." I tell myself, silently, but not whispery. And decide to focus my thoughts on her, and maybe somehow communicate to her?

.

.

.

And she's telling me I should go. She's not proud of what I did, I know it; just by my inner conscious. Honestly, I know she never really liked Anthony, but she accepted him for coming here. I am thankful she did, too. I sigh, and looked at the door, and decided I go.

The room I am in is totally shaded, even though my eyes can see some objects. I stand up from bed, and take the Pikachu plush with me. I tidy the bed up so once I get back from the room I could go straight to sleep. I get to my bedroom door, open, and close it once I was in the hall. My mind kept triggering these little thoughts. Some were: '_Don't do it, he won't forgive you.', 'Why go in there? He hates you now, he doesn't need your forgiveness', 'Go inside and apologize. If your mom were here, she'd abandon you if you didn't do it'_. So I give it a chance anyway. I won't let the inner mechanizations of my mind take control of me.

I open the door, slowly and silently, and cautiously closed it once I was in the room. I walk towards Anthony's desk, and roll his wheel chair to his bed, without looking at him until I sat down on it. Once I sit down, a sad breathing angel laid in front of me. This room was as dark as my room, but the window was slightly open and glistening illuminations shining his body. He wasn't covered by the blanket, just by the clothes he had on earlier.

"I don't want to wake him up" I whispered to myself. I just felt like hugging him, even though the bruises I gave him will make him feel worse. I emit my breath, and then slightly touch his soft, pure face that I thankfully didn't harm. I smile faintly, but then look back on his arms. Light blacks and reds had shown; that was just his arm, too. I'm such a monster for giving him these clots. I touch each one soothingly, making sure not to press down on them. Anthony's face pouts as he sleeps. "Maybe I'm touching a bit hard?" I whisper, "I'll just stop." And I do. I'm not really sure what to do right now, but I can't stop looking at him. _Maybe I should write him a letter?_ Assuming it would be the best choice. I don't want to say sorry tomorrow, so I will today while he sleeps.

I stand up, and go to his desk. I see another chair. An old, wooden one, though it's better than nothing. I take a pen, scissors, and our notebook in which we write our sketches. I cut the last paper of the notebook out, and put the scissors in his desk. Then, with my sloppy hand writing, I begin to write.

_**Dear Anthony,**_

_** This Is Ian. I honestly really, really don't know how to start this. Last night, well tonight, I punched you a lot. I questioned why or how you could even take it without attacking me back that much, but I'm guessing it's because you were weak… or didn't want to attack me back.**_

_** Anyway, I must tell you… I am sorry. You won't believe me. I JUST KNOW you won't. And if you do for some reason, thanks. I don't even mind if you attack me later tomorrow either. I obviously deserve it for knocking you out; for not believing you.**_

_** But yeah, I am totally sorry. I apologize with so many grievances. I can't even explain how sorry I am, especially since I should be. I'm not sure what I can do to say I'm sorry. I do appreciate you're my friend, and I can kind of see why you don't want to be friends with me anymore.**_

_** It's okay; we can just be business partners in Smosh for now on if that's what makes you comfortable. Or maybe we should stop Smosh? Well, I don't really know. I just realized I'm a pretty huge threat… or something.**_

_** I just really wish we never had the argument Anthony. I really don't. I'll miss you as much as I miss my mom right now, or even more. Sorry I just had to direct this topic to my mom all of a sudden; I just can't handle the fact I'm losing everyone I love, and may as well only have one at the end. (Melanie?)**_

_** Anyway, call me when you wake up. Or well, I might stay in the Smosh house until you wake up, but don't be afraid to wake up me. I guess I should pay for insurance or something to get your messed up arm and back (And penis…) fixed up…**_

_** Anyway yeah, good night Anthony. And once again, I'm very, very, very sorry. **_

_** Sincerely,**_

_** Ian Hecox~***_

Once I ended the paper, I noticed that the bottom of the page is slightly wet. Must have been the tears I cried out once again. I put down the pen and I take the paper to Anthony, who was still sleeping. I place it in front of his face, who was now facing me. Then, I sit back on the wheel chair of his, to look at him one last time. _I really do need to separate from this guy one day._ I thought. I do, I really do. I don't want to, but it's a better choice. My mom was so close to, me and now she's gone, and I just know Anthony will leave me; I should be the one to do so first. I just need to take her as an example of today.

Her, meaning the one I just forgot about this entire time, but once these few minutes.

Her, the one who I could count on. Her, the one who relied on me. Her, the one who could forgive me and my actions. Somehow, I wish Anthony could be my her; my mom. Sadly he's not, however Anthony just resembles to caring parent to me. He wouldn't want me, and I won't make him have me. The one who could have killed him.

I lean my head forward to him. I kiss him lightly. Not on his lips, but on his ear, like he did earlier. It reminds me of that kiss I would give my mom when she was taking a nap or when she was sleeping. Anthony reminded me of her in some aspect when he slept. Especially with how cute and puffy his cheeks were. It made me want to cry more than I was already. And I did. Not over his face, but close enough. Actually so much, I pressed my lips to his without acknowledgment. I stood up rapidly before he could wake up, if he even would have. Before I went back to the next room, I also remembered the Pikachu plush that I took, and decide to put it on the chair along with the letter. I can live a night without sleeping with it.

I smile once again. Anthony looked too cute. Then I suspired, because I know he'd freak out if I were near him right now. I open the door to exit the room, and close it once I was out. Then I open the door to my room, and close it once I was in my room.

And now I'm back, on my bed, just by 4 walls.

I began to think

Yeah, I've been with this guy for so long… but I just shouldn't be with him anymore. The discussion we had earlier, it opened my eyes. I just hate how Anthony won't admit he hasn't been a good friend, at least recently throughout these months, actually years. At the same time, he has those sweet moments to him, but it's not enough. And if he ever goes, those minimal amounts of sweet moments are the only thoughts I will remember

"Okay, I'll do what I think I should do. I'll break my relationship with Anthony." I said almost loud and proud. At the same time, I didn't really understand why. I don't have many other friends I could hang out with, but I just rather be alone than with him. Though, I can always let Melanie be my girlfriend, and my imagination be my friend. And all my memories, like this day, be my lesson.

Yes, today was a lesson. A lesson that I will never forget, because this lesson involves good byes. _Good bye Anthony and Cheryl, I'll never forget you and all these times. Relationships can't last forever._

I cried myself to sleep, in happiness.


End file.
